And when I think that God, His Son
not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take
it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly
bearing,
He bled and died to take away my
sin:
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God,
to Thee;
Mweba kulu, how great Thou art!
Staring at the Bemba adaptation of otherwise familiar lyrics, I thought
about the impact of the Gospel as witnessed through parallel experiences across
the world on Sunday morning. In fact, all across the world, men and women are
singing these lyrics in whatever tongue is comfortable, and praying that the
gospel of Jesus Christ would reach the ends of the earth. A teammate had
planted a sprouting seed in my mind, one which continues to seek ways to sink
its roots deeper. The obvious conclusion, as I stewed in the question, is that
the ends of the earth have not yet been reached, that several peoples have
remained elusive to the news of God’s grace. However, men and women have
crossed every longitude and latitude in the name of Christ. If not a geographic
objective, what then is the end of
the earth?
The team rests after joining the Pacers, the University of Zambia
Pacers that is, for a pickup game of basketball. They are young, energetic men
who, before my first engagement, I considered the end of the earth. The reunion
proved warm, and the new relationships we formed tonight seem promising. We
rest in anticipation of the next adventure. Eight hours and counting, the ends
of the earth await.
